Title: One Last Time

Rating: M

Characters: Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe, Nick Duvall, Kurt Hummel

Summary: Blaine is drowning in a depressive episode that has completely consumed his mind, body and soul. But when he accidentally goes too far, the usual suspects are there to help him. One last time. The final addition to my Second Chance verse. Klaine. Nickbastian.

Warnings: Self harm, swearing,

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or these characters but I'll always be thankful for their existence.

Notes: A part of my Second Chance verse, set after "Five Year Reunion". I was very sure that I'd finished Sebastian's story but I wasn't happy with where I'd left Blaine's. So here, five years after I posted the original story, is my final addition to Second Chance. Thank you to everyone who has read and supported this verse. I can't express how much it's meant to me.

ONE LAST TIME

Chapter 1:

People don't care about mental illness until it becomes physiological. That's what Blaine had been telling himself since he started hurting himself again. With no work, no auditions, and no reason to stay clean, he'd relapsed a month ago. Kurt was in Boston doing previews for a revival of The Normal Heart and Rachel had finally moved out with Jesse so Blaine had had the loft to himself. And while misery loved company, depression loved solitude even more.

The only reason Blaine had left the house in the last month was to buy fresh blades and bandages. The kids he taught to play piano came to him and so did all manner of take-out food and, when he was desperate, alcohol. When the creaking and groaning of the building at night would keep him awake, he'd drink himself to sleep. And if that didn't work, he always had his blades.

His arm was a mess after four weeks. He couldn't see the old scars anymore – not even the one from his suicide attempt before he'd started at Dalton. And the itching was driving him mad. But he couldn't stop. He refused to stop.

After three o'clock on a Friday afternoon, Blaine had nothing left to do until eleven o'clock Monday morning. Once he'd watched his last pupil of the day walk down the street and turn the corner, he grabbed his wallet, phone and keys and headed down to the store.

At first, Blaine had tried to go to different stores each time he bought blades and bandages together but when he realised that most people didn't make the connection – or care – he had stuck to the store down the street. He'd become so familiar with their layout that he barely had to focus his eyes as he walked through the narrow aisles to where they stacked the medicinal supplies.

Staring at the bandages and dressings and bandaids and gauze pads, Blaine tried to pretend to be browsing, pressing his wrist against his stomach while he fingered his keys in his pocket. The pain glided over his brain but it ebbed too quickly. He reached out for a bandage when his phone rang in his other pocket.

Looking at the screen, he saw that Kurt was calling. With a deep breath, he answered the phone and forced a smile onto his face. It was the least he could do. Kurt's were the only calls he answered anymore.

"Hey, how are you?" Blaine asked, his eyes lingering on the shelf of bandages.

"I'm fantastic. This is such an amazing experience, Blaine. I wish you could be here with me. We had the best show last night. I wanted to call you and tell you about it last night but I figured you'd be asleep and-"

Kurt's words faded to the usual buzz of post-show enthusiasm Blaine had grown accustomed to hearing the last few weeks. Everything was wonderful and Kurt would never get sick of performing this show with this cast and he couldn't wait until they moved to Broadway in another month. He wished this had all happened before the Dalton reunion so that he could have shared it with all the guys.

"Sebastian actually called me the other day. I don't remember if I told you."

Blaine's brain came back to itself. "Sebastian called?"

"Yeah. He and Nick are coming to New York at the weekend and wanted to catch up. They left Violet with Sebastian's parents and came out for some relaxation. I think they got in this morning? I can't remember. I told them to call you, since I'm here."

"Right, they might have called while I was with a student. I haven't checked my messages yet."

"Well make sure that you do. They'd love to see you."

"I'll give them a call."

"Anything else new with you?"

I'm cutting myself again.

"Nope. Same old, same old."

"No auditions or anything?"

"Not yet."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure something will come up soon."

"Hopefully."

"Crap, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning, okay? Try to catch up with Sebastian and Nick, yeah?" Kurt blew a couple of kisses into the phone. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Kurt had already hung up.

Blaine flicked through his missed calls and texts and saw that both Nick and Sebastian had tried to call him. Only Sebastian had left a message.

"Hey Anderson, just calling to ask what you're up to this weekend. Nick and I are in New York and wondered if you wanted to catch up Saturday some time. Call us back and let us know. We'd love to see you."

Blaine shoved his phone back into his pocket before he grabbed two bandages, ducked into the next aisle for a new packet of blades, and went to the register to pay.

While he was waiting, his eyes drifted over the different boxes of pain medications they kept behind the counter. The red of the Tylenol packaging seemed to beckon to him but he shook the idea out of his head. He couldn't do that again. Not knowing what had happened with Sebastian and his liver transplant.

The tiny girl behind the counter glanced at him with wary eyes as she rang up his items.

"Are you okay?" she asked after giving Blaine the price.

"I'm fine," he said with a small smile as he handed her the money. "Thank you. Keep the change." He grabbed his purchases and shoved them into the pockets of his jacket as he started the walk back home.

As he was climbing the stairs back into the apartment, his phone started ringing again. He checked to see who was calling, in case it was Kurt again, but it was only Nick. He bit his lip before answering the phone and holding it to his ear.

"Hey Nick, sorry I missed your call earlier. How are you?"

"I'm good," Nick said, his smile obvious in his voice. "We're in New York! We're having a late lunch in Times Square."

"Hey, Blaine," Sebastian called, barely audible over the din of cars and crowds on their end.

"That's awesome. Got much planned?"

"We're gonna go see Dear Evan Hansen tonight. We wanted to see Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 but they closed a couple weeks back. We were so disappointed. But we were thinking of coming to see you tomorrow. What's a good time for you?"

"Um, I'm not really sure." Blaine heaved the apartment door open, stepping inside, and pulling it shut before he leaned back against it. "Whatever works for you. I don't have anything planned."

"Shall we come get you for breakfast then? About nine thirty?"

Blaine bit his lip, trying to calculate how much sleep he would get if the loft was creaky tonight. Glancing at himself in the mirror Kurt kept by the door, he knew it wouldn't matter how much sleep he got. He'd still look like crap.

"That works," he said into the phone. You remember the way here?"

"Sebastian is nodding his head so I guess we do," Nick laughed. "See you at nine thirty then."

"See you." Blaine waited for the line to disconnect before he dropped his arm and leaned his head back against the door to look up at the dingy ceiling.

He had a little over sixteen hours to compose himself. He couldn't see that happening.

At the very least he would need to shower. And a shower with warm water meant his veins would come to the surface. And that meant he could cut.

He hated that that made the idea seem worthwhile.

Blaine took the new bandages and blades into the bathroom and put them away before he went into the bedroom to find clean clothes for tomorrow. He decided on the red and blue cardigan with a plain black bow tie on a white shirt. His black jeans were the only ones that were clean – well, smelled clean. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done laundry.

He quickly went around emptying the small waste baskets Kurt had dotted around the apartment of any bloody tissues before he cleared out the inedible food from the refrigerator. When he came back from taking out the trash, the only thing left to do was shower and the idea made his heart flutter.

In the bathroom Blaine carefully undressed, being sure not to knock or pull on the dressings that had stuck to his arms all through the day from when he'd cut that morning. Standing in just his boxers, he took a deep breath before he looked down at his arms. The bandage around his left arm was still crisp white on the outside but he knew there'd be bloodstains further down. The dressing on his right wrist however was black with dried blood.

Slowly, Blaine unravelled the bandage. He bit back yelps of pain when it clung to his skin before finally coming away to reveal dry, red skin and tiny droplets of blood. He flexed his fingers and felt the skin burn with the movement before he turned to his other wrist. He bit his lip before he started to peel away the dressing. It came away stiff, curved around where it had rested on his wrist all day. Blood welled up where cuts reopened against the red mass of scar tissue he'd made. The mere air stung the skin and it made him dizzy with pain to flex this hand.

With his left hand, Blaine turned on the shower and watched the water stream down until steam started to rise up. He wriggled out of his boxers and stepped into the tub, grabbing the soap to wash his hands first. As he lathered them up, droplets of water splashed onto his wrists and he barely contained the scream that burst from his lungs as his right arm began to sting and throb. He jerked back from the water, rinsing his hands quickly before he clamped his fingers over the wounds. The stinging got worse and his eyelids flickered closed. He felt the pain and the pain felt him until they found a happy medium and Blaine went back to his shower.

He washed himself, feeling the grime of the past few days disappear, before he carefully cleaned up his arms. He chewed on his lip as the wounds throbbed before he held them under the warm water, watching them get red from the heat and the pressure. He didn't know why it had taken him this long to figure out that heat made him bleed more but he was glad he had figured it out eventually.

Getting out of the shower, he towelled himself off and pulled on fresh underwear and one of Kurt's undershirts since all of his were dirty. He had an old Dalton sweatshirt on the couch that he'd put on later but he'd be fine for now. He didn't put any pants on. After his blood had soaked through a towel onto his forest green chinos, he hadn't wanted to risk it. He grabbed the blades and bandages from the medicine cabinet and sat cross-legged on the floor with a towel in his lap.

Blaine studied his scars, trying to figure out where this relapse had started, but there was no way to tell anymore. The cuts were too many and too close together to tell. People thought you couldn't hurt yourself with safety razors but he had plenty of proof right in front of him.

He took up a fresh blade, looking at how it glistened in the low light, before he drew it across his left wrist. The metal bit down and blood bloomed in its wake. The pain plucked at Blaine's nerves and smoothed out all the wrinkles in his brain. The tension was sapped from his shoulders and he sighed as he cut again.

Sitting on the floor of the bathroom, Blaine watched himself bleed and felt himself hurt. He felt his blood run cold down his arms to pool on the towel in his lap. His fingers twitched and his hands trembled as he took shuddering breaths. He wondered how much blood he was losing as it came faster and faster. He wondered if he should stop.

When the blade dulled and the towel was wet with blood, Blaine wound bandages around his arms. His arms felt cold and sticky where the blood coated his skin but he wasn't worried. This was the calmest he'd felt in days. When he got to his feet, his arms began to throb and he felt his head swim with pain. He felt a bit faint so he staggered out of the bathroom towards the bedroom. He thought he heard his phone ringing but he couldn't remember where he'd left it.

Collapsing into bed, Blaine barely registered the pain shooting through him or the feeling of blood soaking through bandages. He just snuggled into the pillows and felt himself drift away. He hoped he'd wake up in time to see Sebastian and Nick. He missed them.